Vanity, Claire, America
by Kyouya's Kitten
Summary: Who knew that Kyouya would ever move to America and start a life there? Don't worry, his friends were convinced that California was a cool place to stay, so why should they stay in boring old Metal City? What about his daughter? By Request


"Quein, mama?"

"Con tu papa."

"Oh, si." She said and hugged her mom.

"Wait... What?" Kyouya said as he walked into the room. "What the hell was that?"

"Spanish," Clare said, "I'm teaching Vanity Spanish while she's young so that she can take other classes while she's in high school. You have to remember, this is America after all," she said jokingly to her husband.

"Umm... Okay. So, is it easy, Vanity?"

"Si, papa. Es muy facil," Vanity said and hugged her dad.

Kyouya looked over at Clare. "She said, 'yes, dad. It's very easy."

"Ohhhh... Okay."

"So anyway, I'm gonna be going in a few minutes," Clare said.

"Um. Tell me again where you're going tonight?" Kyouya asked.

"Well, first, I have a meeting with the company over the new project, then Madoka and I are going out to dinner."

"Oh, well good luck at the meeting and bring me something back?"

"If you're not full on PB&J's and Mac n' Cheese." She said with a smile.

"Deal." He said and smiled back.

"Alright, I'm off," she said and kissed Kyouya lightly. "Remember, Van needs to be in bed by 8 and no horror movies with Tsubasa. Van was up all week and afraid of her own shadow."

"Okay," he sighs and watched Clare wave and close the door behind her.

He knelt down beside his three-year-old daughter. "So, what do you wanna do?"

"Ummm... I dunno, daddy," she said.

"You wanna watch TV?"

She nodded.

"Okay," he said and picked up the remote. He clicked on the TV and stood up as he set the remote down near Vanity. "Here, you choose something to watch and I'll go make us a snack."

"Okay," she said cutely ant took the remote. He looked back at his daughter and smiled. He made his way back to the kitchen. "Hmmm... What can I make for her?" He asked himself. "I've got it!" He rummaged through the cabinets until he found a can of Chef Boyardee. "If the chef don't judge, let's hope that Vanity doesn't either." He popped open the aluminum lid on the can. "Ouch! Damn..." He said quietly and sucked the blood from the finger he'd just cut on the sharp metal. He emptied the can's contents into a microwave-safe bowl and stuck it in the microwave for three minutes. He got another bowl and two forks (a small one for Vanity and a bigger one for him) and a napkin from the pack. He waited patiently until the microwave stopped. Once it did, he opened the door and poured the ravioli into the other one. He rinsed the already dirty one as he waited for the food to cool.

After it had, he took it into the living room along with the silverware. He set it on the floor in front of the TV and laid down on his stomach next to his daughter and handed her her fork. She took it from him and took small bites from the bowl; once or twice their forks clinked together as they ate their snack with their eyes transfixed on the TV screen. Once they were done, he took the dishes into the kitchen and automatically made his way back to the living room to resume his position watching cartoons with his little girl. "So, Van, what's this American kid's show called again?" He asked as he watched a large, brown dog talk to his tall and lanky (and rather dorky looking) human companion.

"Scooby Doo, daddy," she said without taking her eyes from the screen.

"Oh, yeah," he said. He looked at his daughter. She had blonde hair just like her mother and had his deep blue eyes. She had his nose and her mother's cheeks. She had his smile and her mother's body. The perfect combination of the two, in Kyouya's mind, was sitting right next to him; to him, the best part about it is that... She was his own.

He didn't like to think into the future about when she'd get taken away from him by college. He didn't want to think about giving her away to some kid who wanted to marry her. He didn't want to see her as a grown woman with kids of her own. He wanted to freeze time and space so they could stay like that forever. So every time she had a bad dream she would crawl into bed between her parents, or into his arms. He honestly wouldn't mind being twenty-one for the rest of eternity. He just wanted to freeze the moments when she came home from pre-school excited about the littlest of things. Or to keep those moments in his pocket when she relied on him when something upset her. He loved her more than life and itself and didn't want to see her go. To be put out into this cruel world all on her own.

She was too fragile and vulnerable. He felt as though once the floods of stress came down on this fragile little rose, that she would be crushed under the rushing water, and he felt like hell because he knew that he would not be there to guide her through her whole life. That she would have to go through it alone all the times that he was not there.

_**/Sorry guys. I'm depressed as hell. Enjoy this. Don't expect much from me for now. Sorry to dissapoint you guys.**_


End file.
